Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. Interlude 6

Thus closed the tale of guilt and gloom, That cast upon each listener's face Its shadow, and for some brief space Unbroken silence filled the room. The Jew was thoughtful and distressed; Upon his memory thronged and pressed The persecution of his race, Their wrongs and sufferings and disgrace; His head was sunk upon his breast, And from his eyes alternate came Flashes of wrath and tears of shame. The Student first the silence broke, As one who long has lain in wait, With purpose to retaliate, And thus he dealt the avenging stroke. 'In such a company as this, A tale so tragic seems amiss, That by its terrible control O'ermasters and drags down the soul Into a fathomless abyss. The Italian Tales that you disdain, Some merry Night of Straparole, Or Machiavelli's Belphagor, Would cheer us and delight us more, Give greater pleasure and less pain Than your grim tragedies of Spain!' And here the Poet raised his hand, With such entreaty and command, It stopped discussion at its birth, And said: 'The story I shall tell Has meaning in it, if not mirth; Listen, and hear what once befell The merry birds of Killingworth!'